


Beauty In The Dark

by Katrina_Leann, Tanesha



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark One!Belle, F/M, Fluff, Kid!Bae, Slow Burn, Woobie Rumple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrina_Leann/pseuds/Katrina_Leann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanesha/pseuds/Tanesha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becoming the Dark One was supposed to mean that there would never be another unwanted surprise. Becoming the Dark One was supposed to mean that Belle had control over her fate. No more surprises. </p><p>...so why hadn't she seen the spinner coming?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Fun

It wasn’t supposed to become a regular thing. For every year that she spent as the Dark One, for every deal that she made... Most of her time was spent in isolation. 

Complete and utter solitude. 

For once, Belle had actually taken the time to plan out an entire evening. Go to the tavern (wearing a glamour spell, obviously. No need to spoil the fun immediately). Order a few ales, and listen to what people said about her.

She knew, of course. It was no secret. Monster, beast, creature…

…and so on.

But it would be quite _fun,_ Belle thought. Sitting in the tavern and hearing people talk about her, not knowing that she was right next to them.

Thrilling. The mere thought made her shiver softly, a slow smirk curling at her lips.

So here she was, sitting in a tavern—rather quiet one, actually—waiting for the rush of men, back from work. If her experience had taught her anything, it was this. Where there was ale, there was men. That’s just how it went.

She could’ve done this without them, Belle supposed, but the men were always the most fun. All of them stood big and bad, flapping at the mouth until they were blue in the face, “She can’t be that bad…” some would say.

But her very favorites were the ones who’d throw a disbelieving look towards the other men and say, “It’s not like she can do that much. She is a _woman_ after all.”

Yes. Those were her very favorite

She would hunt their dreams relentlessly, turning everything they saw into some form a threat. It was well deserved, Belle mused. Once, a particularly cocky man, had insisted that the only reason the Dark One had any influence was because she “knew how a man liked it”.

“She must’ve tricked him, if he'd picked her up and she'd backed out last second. Coward. If a woman can tease, she can put out. But she must have tricked him,” the man had said, downing another ale as he beckoned the barmaid closer. “I mean, how else could she have gotten the power? Poor fool—not being able to recognize the sign in a woman,” he had trailed off here, Belle remembered, glancing around as he realized that he’d ruined the mood, “shame I wasn’t with him. I like ‘em crazy.”

His friends had immediately started laughing, some even sputtering up the ale they’d just swallowed onto the table. Disgusting.

That _had_ been a good day for the darkness crammed inside of her, though.

“Miss? Would you like more ale?” a new voice suddenly chirped, making Belle very nearly startle. Ah, yes. The barmaid. A nervous smile was touching at her lips, making Belle frown. Her glamour was still on. Why was she nervous?

The gold coin. _She probably thinks that you’re rich. Royalty on the run, perhaps?_

Belle finished the remaining ale with a single gulp. That thought hit dangerously close to home. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I would.”

The barmaid scurried off without a word and Belle grabbed the empty ale cup, clutching the still cool glass loosely in her hand. Where was she?

Right, planning.

Tonight would be something special, Belle decided. Instead of just listening in the shadows, she’d reveal herself. Nighttime was approaching rapidly, the sky outside darkening to a deep purple.

As if on cue, men started pouring in the tavern. The barmaid placed her newly refilled ale on the table and hurried back towards the kitchen, no doubt preparing for what was about to happen. Rush hour.

The men boomed with laughter, the very rafters of the tavern shaking with it. 

Blend in, listen to what was said, and then frighten. Get in a good laugh and a much needed break from her castle and her deals. Besides, compared to everything that she’d done, this was nothing more than parlor tricks. Blend, listen, and frighten. That was the plan.

And then Belle met the spinner.


	2. Spindleshanks

"Ay, Red how 'boutta few drinks for my beautiful friend here. C'mon, lovely, need to make a good impression."

Belle fought the snarl curling at her lips and instead flashed a grin at the slurring man next to her. "No thanks, Sir. I'm plenty happy to stick with my ale right here." For extra emphasis she tapped the mostly full glass with her ring finger.

His head swiveled between Belle and her glass, eyes filled with uncomprehending confusion.

"A lovely woman like you? Drinking tha' swill?" His meaty fist suddenly banged down on the table, making the wood rattle. "Unacceptable! Red!"

Red - Belle guessed, appeared next to her, balancing a tray on her hand and glaring daggers at the man next to her. "Keith I swear if you say one more word I'm going to personally drag your drunk, useless carcass outside and lock the door."

Keith sputtered and stood quickly, suddenly sobered. "Make no mistake, _Ruby_ , I own this tavern. Until you and your worthless grandmother can afford to pay off the loan for building, the only words out of your pretty mouth should be 'Yes sir'."

Belle watched with curiosity as the brunette stood taller, her back ramrod straight and eyes flashing. "We've already payed you, scumbag. This tavern is _ours_!"

A dark smile flashed over Keith's face, "Pity. Do you have proof, Red? A contract?"

Belle watched as Ruby's jaw worked in anger. "You refused to sign. And you know that we were desperate!"

Keith shrugged and picked at the lint on his jacket. "I prefer not to sign what I can't read. Either way, it's your problem Ruby. Until there is undeniable proof that you've payed me, this tavern is mine."

"You did just confess," Belle reminded him.

Both Keith and Ruby blinked in shock, apparently having forgotten that she was there. "I mean you flat out said that you didn't sign the contract, implying that there was indeed a contract. And a payment, which I'm willing to bet she did pay."

Keith blinked again and a slow smile started curving at Ruby's lips.

"What're you doing?" Keith snarled, his eyes narrowing.

_Yeah_ , Nimue piped up. _What are you doing?_

Having some fun.

Belle shrugged and took a long drink of her ale. "If you wanted to succeed with your master plan then you should've had this conversation somewhere a bit more private."

Keith leaned forward, his arm shooting out to trap her where she sat. "I don't know who you think you are, but threatening me isn't a great idea. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Belle threw her head back and laughed. Laughed until tears formed at the corner of her eyes and she had to wipe them away with her sleeve. "Oh, Keith. One day very soon you're going to regret those words. Here's some advice, give the girl her tavern."

And before he had time respond, the tavern door swung open and Belle leaned over to watch as a man limped in.

He had long, shaggy brown hair and his cloak had at least five little holes torn into the cheap looking fabric. His eyes were cast downward as he stumbled across the room, one pale hand clutching a wooden walking stick.

Belle watched as Ruby visibly softened, her eyes filling with warmth. Keith, on the other hand, seemed to get even angrier. "Ay, someone take the trash out! Go on, he won't fight you! Get out of here Spindleshanks!"

Spindleshanks didn't even flinch, merely made his way towards the older woman who had greeted Belle when she arrived. Ruby's grandmother, she presumed.

"Rumplestiltskin," Granny said softly, and Belle narrowly avoided choking on her ale. Hadn't Keith just called him Spindleshanks?

_Really?_ Nimue chirped _, You're surprised? It was an insult._

"Granny," he returned with a heavy smile, leaning fully on his cane and pushing the hair out of his face. His shaky hands pulled out a faded satchel and poured a few coins onto the counter. "This'll be enough?"

Granny looked at the meager offer with sad eyes. "Rumple-"

He cut her off before she could even finish his name. "Just for the soup! I-I haven't the means to produce anything right now. No more than a single cup of soup. That's all I ask."

Granny reached over to put a gentle hand on his chest, "When's the last time you had a decent meal, Rumplestiltskin? More than just a crust of bread?"

Belle frowned at her response. "What's she talking about? If he's about to buy himself some soup, what's it matter the last time he ate?"

Ruby didn't get the chance to answer.

"Papa...?" And suddenly everything made perfect sense.

The little boy couldn't have been older than five, with a mop of curly brown hair and deep brown eyes - eyes that were currently looking around the diner nervously.

Rumplestiltskin changed in that moment. His spine became stiffer and he immediately dropped to his knees, tugging the little boy to him. "Bae, I told you to wait outside. The signal, remember?"

The boy nodded dutifully, carefully whistling an intricate tune.

Rumplestiltskin smiled and ran a hand through the boy's hair, "Exactly. Go sit over there, next to Ruby," he glanced up at Granny who gave him a tight smile and a nod, "I'll bring you your soup soon, m'boy."


	3. Sons and Soup

Belle watched in amusement as the boy shuffled over to where Ruby stood, an almost bashful smile on his face as he slid into the chair.

Right next to her.

For once the chorus of outraged voices and snarled remarks didn't sound off in her mind. The Dark Ones were quiet, though that didn't surprise Belle at all. For all of the atrocities that she gleefully committed, for all of the fear that she inspired...

Children were off limits.

It was the unspoken rule, the clearly drawn line that no one took credit for. And, for that, Belle was grateful. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she'd lose her already tenuous grasp on sanity if she had never quieting voices demanding that she kill children.

So when the little boy flashed her a hesitant smile, Belle returned the gesture immediately.

"I'm Baelfire," he announced proudly, that same infectious smile splitting his face.

"Baelfire," she mused softly, taking a long sip of her ale and leaning back on her stool. "A good name. Strong." He blushed at her unintentional compliment, his eyes sparkling.

_Careful,_ Nimue warned. _Off limits he may be, but that doesn't mean you're allowed to go soft._

Soft? No. Not soft.

She'd done too much, killed too many, to ever have the word "soft" associated with her name. Gentle, perhaps. But only because he was a child.

The tapping of a walking stick snapped her out of her argument with - well, herself - and realigned her focus.

Rumplestiltskin was making his way, albeit slowly, towards Baelfire, a small portion of soup clutched in the hand not gripping his cane.

"Here, son. Eat up."

Not needing to be told twice, Bae dove in, managing eat his food at a reasonable pace despite the fact that he was clearly hungry. However, once about half of the soup was gone, he pushed the bowl towards Rumplestiltskin.

"I'm not hungry, Bae."

Baelfire was relentless, pushing the bowl even closer. "Well I'm not hungry too."

"Either," Rumplestiltskin corrected with a fond sigh, taking a reluctant bite. "There, will you eat now please?"

Baelfire shook his head. "No. I ate a lot of soup. Your turn."

Rumplestiltskin lifted the bowl to his lips and tilted his head back as if to drink it. But the moment the soup touched his mouth, his lips closed over the top.

He continued the ruse for several long seconds before lowering the bowl and sliding it back to his son. "I'm done, Bae. You can have the rest."

Baelfire - seemingly cured of his "not hungry" nature - ate the soup with gusto, going as far as to scrape the very bottom of the bowl.

Afterwards he sat back and licked his lips, grinning at Granny with wide brown eyes. "That was the best! Tasted even better than last year, Mrs Lucas."

The old woman gave him a fond smile, "You're too sweet."

Belle huffed out a laugh as Baelfire turned beet red, squirming in his seat.

_Leave,_ Nimue demanded sharply, making Belle flinch.

_Leave right this instant and don't look back._ Her voice held no room for argument, the deep and commanding tone stealing the tentative warmth that had settled in the pit of her belly.

_And that's why you're leaving. Now._

Belle shot up so suddenly that heads whipped around to look at her, surprised.

"Madam?" Ruby queried gently, reaching out as if to touch her arm. Not that she actually got to.

Quick as a flash Belle was out the door, trying not to wince at the sound of the slamming oak behind her. _This isn't your world, Princess. Not anymore._

Nimue's voice had gone uncharacteristically soft, but the warning it held was undeniable.

Belle wouldn't be returning to the tavern again.


	4. The Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for non-graphic torture.

_"It's for the greater good, Belle. Avonlea needs the extra troops, ogres were spotted on the horizon just last week!"_

_"The greater good, Father, shouldn't include offering me up like a sacrificial lamb! I'll not be doing this."_

_Maurice became harder then, his eyes darkening in anger and clear disapproval. "Make no mistake, Belle, you will be marrying him. Sir Gaston may not be your favorite knight...or person, but he will be your husband."_

_Belle held her chin higher, meeting his disapproving gaze with one of her own. "And if I refuse?"_

_His scowl deepened. "Then you are no daughter of mine." His voice was deathly calm, gaze cold and steady. The man regarding her now wasn't the same man who'd pushed her on the oak swing behind the castle, he wasn't the man who had gladly played tea party with her and her stuffed animals._

_Maybe he'd never been. Perhaps Maurice had always meant to marry her off, send her into the arms and bed of a man who saw her as nothing more than a pretty trinket._

_A voiceless toy._

_Her eyes watered at his words and her own thoughts, but she held her ground. "So be it."_

~X~

There were few things in life as satisfying as having complete and total control over another. In fact, Belle dared to think that nothing could match the thrill she had now. The _power_.

The knight sprawled at her feet coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood and groaning in pain.

Belle merely struck him harder over the head, the sound of cracking wood against skull making a smile break out over her face. "Has your memory improved yet, sir? Or is more... _encouragement_...needed?"

The knight - and what the bloody hell was his name, again? - looked up at her and glared. "I don't know! And even if I did I wouldn't-"

This time she aimed the blow at his stomach, the wooden staff breaking in half at the force she used.

He let out a startled whimper and curled in on himself, tensing in anticipation of her next blow. The voices in her head were purring in approval and Belle felt curiously detached as she leaned down to meet the knight's frightening gaze.

"I will not tolerate disrespect, sir. Consider this your only - and final - warning. Now, let's try this again...tell me what you know."

His green eyes flashed in defiance and he struggled to sit up, clutching his stomach even as he met her gaze. "Burn in hell."

Belle smiled sweetly and grabbed his chin between her index finger and thumb. "I'm immortal, lovely. You on the other hand are not." With one quick movement she jerked his head back and to the side, snapping his neck.

 _Adelmo,_ Zoso whispered in her mind. _His name was Adelmo._

"Fitting," Belle sneered, refusing to look down at the body. "If he wouldn't have been so persistent in denying me my information, he might still be breathing."

Zoso chuckled at that and Belle swore she could hear Nimue snickering in the background. _Not likely, Princess. You've been surprisingly accepting of us. I dare say you hardly put up a fight._

Belle didn't respond, her eyes trained to the ground in front of her.

 _You're not thinking about going into town are you?_ Nimue cautioned, her refusal flashing through Belle like a bolt of lightning.

"Not to the tavern. But Adelmo here ruined my dress and it'll take me entirely too long to clean it out without some cornstarch," Belle tilted her head in thought, "and I'm quite suddenly struck by the desire for a sticky bun. With cinnamon."

 _You can just use your magic,_ Zoso advised.

Belle smiled crookedly and shook her head, "But where's the fun in that?"


	5. Cinnamon

The poor sod looked so genuinely terrified that Belle almost felt bad for this. Almost.

As it was, he did do his level best to hide the way his hands shook as he handed over her stick bun, licking his lips nervously, "Ah, h-here you are, m'lady. One sticky bun."

Belle took it from his trembling hand and flipped a coin towards him, letting it soar upwards as it spun. However, when Belle glanced down at the sticky bun, her eyes narrowed.

Before the coin had time to land, Belle snatched it out of midair and turned to the quivering man. "Did I not annunciate clearly enough? Perhaps I misspoke?"

"I-I'm sorry? I d-don't understand, madam."

Belle let one claw drag along the wood of his stall, satisfied with the deep groove it left. "Cinnamon."

Her voice had dropped in tone, the hairs on her neck standing as she shivered in anticipation. Her magic crackled dangerously across her skin, zipping little flashes that left tingling in their wake.

 _This!_ Nimue growled, a savage kind of excitement radiating from her, _this is what should have been. At the tavern._

"W-We only have a very limited supply, m'lady. I gave you as much as I could but-"

With nary a breath nor command, Belle's magic roared to life, choking him where he stood.

 _He will suffer for that,_ Nimue snarled in her mind, a clear image of the man's body falling limp exploding behind her eyes.

His face was turning blue as he raised a hand and clawed at his throat, "M...please...childr-" He cut off with a gasp as Belle finally forced her magic into submission, heart racing wildly.

"All I wanted was some cinnamon," Belle whispered softly, barely seeing as the man dove to abide by her wishes.

_What the hell was that, Princess?_

Belle ignored Nimue's voice and instead focused on breathing, trying to calm her pounding heart. Her stomach was rolling even as she retook the cinnamon covered sticky bun, taking a small bite and closing her eyes as the pounding in her ears faded.

She walked aimlessly through the crowd, ducking down behind some bushes and trees as she stepped into a clearing.

It would be alright, Belle decided, to just sit here. The sun was out, which so rarely happened this time of year.

_You should have killed him._

Besides, it's not like she had any deals that needed immediate attending to. No royals to pester, no commoners to sneer at. It was-

_Taken his little neck and wrung it._

"Madam? Are you alright?"

Quick as a flash, Belle let a glamour spell fall over her, relieved that the voice had sounded behind her. The pounding had returned to her ears and it only took her seconds to realize why.

"Madam?"

Her head was spinning. Magic smoldered in the pit of her stomach but Belle couldn't seem to reach it. The world around her blurred and smeared, the crystal clear blue of the sky hazing over.

"Madam!"

With one last stumbled step, Belle felt her legs give out and her knees buckle. The last thing that Belle saw before she blacked out was the wide, terrified gaze of a child.

~X~

She was comfortable.

Belle felt a frown form on her face as she tried to figure out why the patch of snow covered grass that she'd fallen into was so comfortable. While it didn't quite measure up to the plush bed in her castle, it was certainly more soft than any ground ought to be.

And then she felt the blanket draped across her body.

With a rush of clarity Belle sprang up, relieved to see that the glamour spell was still on.

The voices were strangely quiet as she took in her surroundings, turning on her heels to examine the small hovel that she had been placed in. But by who?

"Madam, are you alright?"

Belle turned slowly, knowing full and well who she would see as she turned around. Even so, she still took a shocked step back when her gaze locked with warm brown eyes.

Rumplestiltskin.


	6. Snow Storm

Belle cleared her throat and offered Rumpelstiltskin a tight smile. "Hello sir," she paused here at the inevitable roar of protest from the voices, the sign of respect too much for them to bear.

"Might I assume that this is your cottage?" It was on the tip of her tongue for her to say "hovel" but considering that her last memories were of her passing out in the snow, she needed him to fill in the blanks.

Meaning that she had to tread lightly. 

For now at least. 

"Aye," he replied softly, clutching his walking stick just a bit tighter. "M'boy found you out in the snow when he went to refill our water bucket..." 

"And you brought me here?" 

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, cheeks turning red as he caught her meaningful glance at his makeshift cane. "Bae helped. Y-You're rather... _small_ , m'lady. 'Twas really no trouble." 

Belle hummed in response to his answer and stretched her back, alleviating the tension coiled there. She allowed herself more than a fleeting glance as her eyes wandered, noticing for the first time the spinning wheel tucked in a corner.

"Your wife's?" She queried, stepping over to run her fingers against the smooth wood.

To her surprise, Rumpelstiltskin snorted out a humorless laugh, eyeing the wheel with a strange mix of hatred and utter devotion. 

Strange. 

"Hardly," he answered softly, giving the wheel a gentle spin and watching - mesmerized - as it spun. "It belonged to family before me, but it's mine," his eyes darkened with bitterness as he once again regarded the wheel, "A woman's trade, I'm told...but..." he trailed off, then suddenly met her eyes. "My apologies, m'lady. You must be starving." 

Eyes downcast, he offered her a small bowl of thin soup. "I-It's not much," he admitted softly, "but it's all we have." 

"You saved my life," Belle reminded him,  _or you would've if I was a normal being_ , "Shouldn't I owe you?" 

Rumpelstiltskin reared back as if she'd slapped him. "O-Of course not. I - you -  _m'lady_... Nothing is owed, I'm just-" 

"Being kind?" 

He sputtered out a shocked sound and stared at her, gaping. "H-Hardly. Being decent is more like it." 

"Oh?" Belle challenged, stepping forward to run her fingers over the buttons of his shirt teasingly. "And you wouldn't ask anything of me, spinner?" 

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, "No." 

Belle took another half step forward, her lips right next to his ear. "And if I offered?" 

She had no intention of doing so, obviously. But something about this man captured her attention and she needed proof. Proof that at the end of the day, he was just another man. 

Nothing special. 

When his hands curled at her waist, her lips twisted bitterly. As she'd guessed, just a man. In fact, Belle wagered that- 

And then she was being pushed away. 

"I'd politely decline, m'lady," he didn't meet her eyes as he picked at his cloak. "You know naught about me, madam. But if you did, you'd rather freeze to death than bed the town coward - besides," he finally met her eyes, "I don't even know your name." 

_Don't even think about it,_ Nimue snapped. _You saw what happened the last time you disobeyed me. You should've killed the vender, don't make the same mistake. Kill him._

"Lacey," Belle replied evenly. Her jaw clenched with the effort of blocking out the voices, focus trained solely on the spinner. "My name is Lacey." 

There, Belle thought. Satisfied? 

_Not even close_ , Nimue growled. 

"Madam Lacey," Rumplestiltskin bowed. 

Belle dipped into a slight curtsey. "Thank you for the hospitality, sir, but I really must be-" 

"You mustn't!" He said quickly, brown eyes wide. "There's a blizzard, madam. A-At least stay the night, just until the worst passes." 

Belle blinked, clearing her throat. "I couldn't impose, really..." 

"I insist," he met her gaze almost pleadingly. "If you were to get hurt on your journey home - or _worse -_ I'd be quite upset." 

"You don't even _know_ me," Belle protested, "and I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you." 

"I never suggested that you weren't, madam! It's just..."

"Just what?" 

His cheeks colored again, "We did find you on the forest floor, madam." 

Right. 

It was only a night. 

And she obviously couldn't tell him that her curse shielded her from elemental and physical harm, because then she _would_ have to kill him. 

Which she really didn't want to do.

 "Alright," she finally breathed out, reluctantly agreeing. 

The spinner blinked, "Alright?" 

Belle nodded. 

It was only one night. 

What could go wrong?


	7. Good Friends and Grief

_Seth let out a sharp cry and fell as her magic slammed into him._

_His wide eyes were glassy with unshed tears, his body curled protectively. Belle didn't blast him hard enough to do any serious damage, but the temporary pain was still quite persuasive._

_He was only fifteen, just barely entering the cusp of manhood._

_"Just tell me what I want to know, boy. Tell me and you will be spared." Her voice had taken on an exasperated tone but Belle couldn't help it. She didn't want to be doing this. Not to him._

_"I've told you, madam! I know nothing!"_

_Another sharp zap._

_Seth cried out again, making Belle's stomach turn. Had she hit him too hard? Already her unnatural skin was sweaty with the effort of holding back._

_She didn't know how much longer she could last._

_"Tell me what you know!" Belle grabbed the collar of his tunic and hauled him up, shoving him harshly against the brick wall. "I will spare you. Do you understand what that means? The mercy that you're squandering?"_

_He trembled slightly in her grip. "I have told you all that I know! If I had anymore information, I'd say so. But I don't. I can't tell you what I don't know!"_

_Belle leaned closer until her forehead nearly touched his. "And how do I know that what you're saying is the truth?"_

_His dark eyes narrowed and a part of Belle wanted to cheer at his display of bravery right now. Another part of her wanted to smack him for it._

_The voices didn't need anymore incentive to kill him._

_"Because I hold no allegiance to that oaf!" Seth snarled, thrashing a little in her tight grip._

_Belle's eyebrows rose in stunned shock. "W-What?"_

_"I hold no allegiance to him. I despise him, actually."_

_Belle shook her head slowly. This wasn't right, the Seth that she knew looked up to Gaston. Had him placed on an unreachable pedestal and held up by unbreakable beams. "Sir Gaston is the finest knight in all the realms. He-"_

_"-is a child endangering, soulless, pathetic excuse for a man. He's scum, m'lady. And even the likes of you deserve better." Seth met her eyes with something akin to sympathy. "If it's his heart you're after, don't bother. He has only eyes for himself."_

_Belle blinked. "And if it's not?"_

_She watched as his confused gaze trailed over her face, his tongue darting out to quickly wet his dry lips. "I'm not sure why you'd be after him, if not for his love."_

_She didn't need to channel the voices for the twisted smile that curled at her mouth. "His head is what I'm after."_

_An answering smile from Seth greeted her, filled with darkness and mistrust and sheer brokenness. What the hell had happened to him?_

_"Then I am unfathomably sorry I can't be more help. There's nothing I'd like to see more than that bastard's blood spill onto the earth."_

"Madam! Madam! Lacey!"

Belle awoke with a gasp, feeling the inevitable rush of grief choke her. Damn it all, she shouldn't have fallen asleep.

It was never kind to her.

Rumplestiltskin was hovering over her bed nervously, his hands fidgeting where they were clasped around his cane. "Are you alright, m'lady?" He reached out towards her and Belle jerked away, glaring at the offered hand.

"Of course I am! I'd be better if left to rest, though."

The spinner looked stung but he plastered on an entirely fake smile and took a big step back. "My sincerest apologies, madam. I was only trying to help."

Tears burned at the back of her eyes and Belle gave her head a quick shake to provide distraction. "I don't recall asking for help, spinner."

That seemed to do it.

Rumplestiltskin shrank all the way back and retreated over to the small cot where his son lied sleeping, joining the boy on the little bed. "Goodnight, madam."

And then he turned to face the wall.

With a quiet, shuddering breath, Belle copied his movement. Only when her back was to him and there was no chance of discovery did Belle allow tears to escape and drip slightly onto the straw stuffed mattress.

There would be no more sleeping tonight. 


	8. A Dose Of Reality

"But this one..." Baelfire continued, hefting up another stuffed animal, "this one Papa won for me at the fair! He saved up a lot for the arrow game." Baelfire tossed his father an adoring smile, one that the spinner effortlessly returned.

Rumplestiltskin was still a bit cold towards her, chillingly polite. But that was to be expected, Belle supposed. Truthfully she hadn't meant to snap at him like that, but her memories had awakened the small part of Belle that still felt... _anything_.

And it hadn't been a pleasant experience.

"I won this one all by myself! Papa let me-"

"Baelfire," Rumplestiltskin cut in gently, a fond shake of his head softening the sudden interruption. "I'm sure madam Lacey has much to do. Perhaps you could tell her about your stuffed animals another time?"

Innocent brown eyes blinked in confusion as he turned to face her once again. "Am I bothering you, madam?"

Belle shook her head with a soft smile. "Not at all, Baelfire. I'm quite enjoying your stories actually."

She saw Rumplestiltskin stiffen out of the corner of her eyes but she didn't acknowledge him. Not right away, anyway. Instead she very carefully scooted closer to Baelfire and propped her chin on her hand, waving the other to beckon him to continue.

"Papa let me play the apple game and I won this one all by myself," his round cheeks suddenly dusted with a dark blush. "My friend Morraine lives right up the road. Her and her Mama went out on business travel, when they get back..." he peeked up at her from under his lashes, "d'you think she'll like it?"

The firelight danced over his face, casting shadows across his pale skin. In this one moment, Baelfire couldn't have looked more like his father if he'd been trying. The angle of his cheekbones and the depth of his eyes were a near exact replica of the spinner's.

However, where Rumplestiltskin had always carried around a certain weariness, Baelfire was carefree. And while the skin under the boy's eyes was smooth and pale, dark circles had blemished the spinner's skin.

"Madam Lacey?"

Belle blinked and refocused, finding Baelfire looking at her strangely. Behind her she could feel the way Rumplestiltskin's eyes bored into the back of her head, but she didn't turn.

"I'm sure that your friend Morraine will love her gift. And not just because it's a beautiful toy, but because the young man who gave it to her thought of her as he picked it."

The blush on his cheeks had returned with a vengeance, making Baelfire squirm a little in his seat. "I...it's just a toy, madam. Hardly anything special..."

"Hardly anything special?" Belle leaned a bit closer to him, heart warming when he didn't shrink back away from her. At the lack of fear in his eyes. "You went to a fair. The money that you used, where did it come from?"

"I-I help Mrs Lucas sometimes, at the tavern. Sometimes she needs the floors swept or someone real strong to help her take out the trash. She gave me a few coins last week..." he trailed off with a little shrug, fighting an embarrassed grin.

"So not only did you use your money to play a game, but the prize you won, you gifted to her..." Belle leaned just a bit closer, lowering her voice to a teasing whisper. "Are you courting her?"

Baelfire spluttered in surprise, whipping his head back to look at his father. "No," then he looked back at her, "no. I'm not courting her. We're just-it's only a stuffed animal! I don't want..." seemingly out of words, he shook his head rapidly, eyes still wide.

Belle sat back and gave a long sigh, "I don't know..." she trailed off with a helpless shrug, spreading her arms wide in a gesture of guiltlessness.

Baelfire sat contemplating, tapping his nails against the the wood of the rickety table. "She's pretty. And she makes me laugh, and sometimes we play kickball I'll kick the ball a little lighter so I don't score."

 _How cute_ , Nimue sneered in her mind. A sharp spike of pain followed and Belle sucked in a deep breath.

The cozy fantasy was thoroughly destroyed with those two words, everything around her becoming dark and ugly.

Time to go, then.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Rumplestiltskin. But the worst of this weather is yet to come, so I must beat the storm." She rose with a little curtsey, meeting the stricken gaze of the spinner.

"B-But it's still snowing, madam. If you head out now-"

"I'll beat the worst of it," Belle walked over and leaned in close to him, whispering lowly so that Baelfire didn't hear. "I'm sorry about last night. I was..." memories of Seth's broken look flooded her mind and she slammed her eyes shut against the onslaught tears. "It doesn't matter. I'm sorry."

Rumplestiltskin pulled back with an understanding smile. "It's alright, madam. I understand, everyone has bad days, aye?"

Belle nodded and accepted the cloak from him when he turned to grab it for her. His eyes flickered over her face briefly before he released the garment. "Be safe, madam. The people here...they'll not be kind."

A dark chuckle escaped her at that, "I assure you, I'll not be the one needing help should they attempt to mess with me."

His soft smile faltered as confusion filled his eyes, but he simply held the door open for her as she left.

"Are you sure you can't stay?" Baelfire called from the table, turning beseeching caramel eyes on her. Belle shook her head and took a step over the threshold.

She didn't turn back as she headed out, pulling the cloak tighter around her though the cold didn't affect her at all. Her breath puffed out in white smoke, evaporating quickly into the air.

Belle wasn't sure how long or how far she walked, but when she was safe distance from Rumplestiltskin's hovel, she let her magic sweep her away.

~X~

As soon as Belle felt the solid ground under her feet and the last wisps of magic faded away, she sighed at the all too familiar sensation of Nimue yanking herself out of her head.

"Nimue," she greeted, pressing a hand to her throbbing temple. "I see your well."

Nimue's lip curled into a snarl, unnatural green eyes flashing in a way that had the tiniest bit of fear stirring around in Belle's stomach. "I'm hardly well, Princess. You've been quite the headache as of late."

Belle hummed in response and quickly sidestepped around the other woman. "I don't see how," she conjured up a pot of tea and poured herself a cup. "I can't imagine that your bloodlust has suffered as of late."

To her surprise Nimue's eyes got even colder, bordering on murderous. " _My_ bloodlust?" She took a threatening step forward, so close that Belle could see the outline of each individual scale along her reptilian skin. "It'd do you well, Princess, to remember who you are. _What_ you are."

Belle - refusing to back down - merely tilted her head with an uncomprehending scowl. "Have I ever implied that I didn't?"

"Your interaction with the boy and the spinner." Her voice was flat and thoroughly unamused. Belle shrugged and took another long sip of her tea.

"The boy's a child and the spinner opened his home for me," setting the cup down onto the table, she rounded on Nimue with a teasing smirk. "Does that bother you, Nimue? The display of kindness?"

The sudden sensation of all the oxygen being pulled from the room made Belle choke and cough, eyes watering.

"Careful, Princess. You are playing with forces way beyond your meager comprehension. Now, are you listening?"

Belle nodded, lungs burning from the lack of air. It wouldn't kill her, but that just made it worse. No relief.

"That boy is what, four...maybe five?" Nimue took a step forward, "When he wakes in the middle of the night, crying because of invisible terrors, you are the monster under his bed. As the spinner coos soothing nonsense into his little ears, you are the voices in his head."

Eyes suddenly burning, Belle trained her gaze to the floor. Nimue's words rang in her ears and she couldn't figure out why that bothered her so much. It wasn't as if she cared for either of them, she hardly knew them after all. And besides, she was the bloody _Dark One_ , she couldn't afford to care about anyone but herself.

"That's more like it, Princess," Nimue said, rather softly, a sort of proud smile twisting at her lips.

The old, familiar blanket of selfishness draped itself over Belle once again, blocking out any emotions she might have been experiencing. "All that matters is finding Gaston and getting my revenge. I haven't time nor inclination for anything else."

Nimue clapped her hands giddily, her small smile turning into a full smile as her eyes lit up. "Good girl! Now, what shall we do next?"

"Something I should've done long ago," at Nimue's expectant look, Belle continued, "find Lefou."

"And once you find the little rat?"

Belle felt once again curiously detached even as her usual malicious smile curled at her lips. "Make him talk. By any means necessary."


	9. Lefou

_"But he's such a good knight! And he even helped some of the children at the orphanage. He saved the King, your father!" Seth's face had turned a little red in his furious defense of Gaston. Belle smothered an agitated huff and instead flashed him a little smile._

_"Okay, Seth, I see your point. That doesn't mean that I necessarily agree with your assessment of him, but I do hear you."_

_He regarded her with surprised eyes before he shrugged. "I dunno, Belle. I think that he'd be a good husband, but if you're not sure..." he trailed off and did a quick glance around the room, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I don't think you should marry him."_

_"What?" She couldn't have possibly heard him right. Seth saw Gaston as one of the Gods, sent to walk among the mortals as a representation of perfection itself._

_He idolized Gaston._

_Seth gave a slow shrug, "I like Gaston," at her amused look, he amended, "I really like Gaston. But I want you happy more than I like him. Does that make sense?"_

_Belle nodded and cleared her throat, "Yeah. Yeah it does."_

_She went in to give him a hug, but before she got that chance she felt his body jerk away from hers._

_"Half blood! What've I told you about being in the lady's chambers? Do you want to be put out on the street?" Lefou had Seth by his hair, his other holding Seth's shoulder in a bruising grip._

_"Hey!" She interjected sharply, rising up to push Lefou away, "He's here with me under my request. And he also has a name, Lefou. It's Seth."_

_Lefou narrowed his eyes, but that was the only way he showed any emotion. "M'lady, he's a half blood. The likes of him doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you, much less accompany you to your chambers."_

_"He's a person," Belle said lowly, effortlessly slipping into the role of authoritarian. "And he's still a child, but more than that-" Belle made sure she looked directly at Seth when she said this, her features softening. "He's my friend."_

_Lefou made an odd snorting noise, looking to her as if she was a child. "Eleven is hardly a child, m'lady. And-"_

_Belle raised her hand to silence him. "Do you really wish to argue with me, Lefou?"_

_He clenched his jaw tightly. "No m'lady."_

_Very deliberately Belle knelt at Seth's feet, halting his hands when he immediately tried to pull her up. "No, Seth, listen to me." He stilled, albeit reluctantly, and met her calm gaze._

_"I have never wanted to be your superior. From the moment I saw you, the fight you went through to overcome your past, I've wanted nothing more than to be your friend. You're resilient Seth, but more than that, you're courageous. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."_

_She leaned in and kissed his forehead, lingering there for just a moment before pulling back and rising._

_"Lefou, please let the castle staff know that Seth is welcome to accompany me anywhere he likes."_

_His eyes flashed hotly, but he gave a clipped smile. "Yes m'lady."_

_"Oh, and Lefou?" Belle smiled sweetly, "If anyone decides to say anything about regulations, please send them to me so I can tell them exactly where to shove those regulations."_

Fighting wasn't something Belle usually did.

If she was entirely honest, her reliance was heavily on her magic and rarely did she - herself - act. Only in very specific cases did Belle try to function without some form of aid from her power.

Like now.

The satisfying crunch of bone echoed through the long abandoned alleyway as Lefou cried out and staggered back.

His balance was off and Belle used that to her advantage, two quick jabs to the stomach making him double over.

"Lefou," Belle drawled, laughing darkly as he tried - and failed - to lunge at her. "Now, now. Don't be foolish, lovely. Simply tell me what you know."

"I'll have to die first, witch!"

Belle smirked and landed a strong punch to his jaw. "Your death is inevitable, Lefou. How badly you suffer is what's in question."

He glared up at her, pinching his bleeding nose. "I'm a knight! The loyalty I have knows no bounds! The dedication I strive for- _ungh!_ "

Belle kicked him sharply in the ribs, ramming her elbow into his temple. "We can do this one of two ways, Lefou. You can keep holding onto your foolish pride, ensuring that the next few days are going to be extremely unpleasant. Or...you can tell me where Gaston is and I'll kill you quickly."

"Your threats mean nothing, witch! I'd rather die than sell him out!"

Belle's eyes widened in realization, her breath leaving her in a noisy puff of air. _He knows._

Lefou _knew_ where Gaston was.

Belle squatted down next to him, lowering her voice and filling it with all the hatred she could muster. "You will die, Lefou. That is inevitable, but hear me when I say that you will beg for mercy - for death - if that is the path you choose. Your answer, sir."

Lefou lifted his chin, his breath stuttering in fear but his gaze even. Belle smiled.

"Very well."

And then they both disappeared in a plume of crimson smoke.


	10. The Voices in Her Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ya'll it turns out that this fic isn't dead! And also, a comment can go a long way towards reigniting the flame of inspiration. I plan to update every week on Thursday!
> 
> Also, major blood and torture trigger warning

He looked stubborn enough, Belle thought. Even with the entire weight of his body being supported by his wrists, the thick manacles cutting into his skin. Lefou still met her gaze coldly, the angle of his jaw defined sharply as he refused to acknowledge his pain. A soldiers’ tactic.

 

 _Gaston would be proud_ , Zoso chimed softly.

 

Gaston is the whole reason he’s in this mess to start with, Belle seethed. He’s the reason for all of this.

 

“You know why you’re here, Lefou. There are many, many ways that I can cause you pain. I don’t want that. You’re not who I’m after. Tell me where he is, and I will kill you quickly.” She let the darkness consuming her soul seep into the air, enjoying the fear that flashed quickly in his eyes. The stone walls of her dungeon seemed the hum with it, echoing the laughter of the voices.

Lefou jerked his chin up, brown eyes narrowing into thin slits full of distaste. “Do what you will to me, witch. I’ll not falter in my loyalty to the throne.” 

And just like that, the very air that had been buzzing and crackling with darkness was sucked away. Belle took a second to enjoy the way Lefou’s eyes had widened in panic, pulling uselessly at the restrains that kept him bound. Before he could open his mouth, Belle placed her fingers against his lips. “Now listen here, lovely. I haven’t much patience right now. You know where he is and you are going to tell me. The air you feel in your lungs? That’s all the air you’ve got. So I’m going to ask you again, and you’re going to tell me what I want to know—or I’m going to start breaking things.” Leaning closer, Belle bared her teeth in a snarl, “Where is he?”

The same gesture from before, with his chin jerking up half an inch as he met her gaze levelly. His eyes though—they held the fear he refused to show any other way and the darkness inside of her absolutely purred at the sight of it. Belle clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, letting the sharp sound echo around the small, stone room. “I warned you.”

It was all too easy to snap his left wrist, the click from that far more satisfying than the one that she’d been able to produce. A half-smothered scream burst from Lefou’s throat before he slammed his mouth shut.  

“Where. Is. Gaston?” She was close enough to him that she could see the way his sweat had started to drip onto the dirty floor, smell the coppery scent of blood as he bit his bottom lip harshly. All of the distaste and scorn had fled from his gaze, the illusion of strength and pride thoroughly banished. Now his eyes sparked with tears and agony, but slowly he met her gaze. Belle allowed just enough air into the dungeon that some level of awareness registered in his eyes.

“Do you understand how far my power reaches? Do you comprehend the strength of my magic?” She squeezed his broken wrist for a moment, relishing in his choked cry of pain. “I can break every single bone in your pathetic body and then heal you so I can start all over again. And again. And _again_. Until you tell me what I want to know, we will keep doing this. You will scream until your throat is bloody and raw, until your lungs are shred, until you pass out from the pain. I will heal you, I will fix you up just so I can break you down again. You will beg for death and until you tell me what I want to know, I will refuse to grant it.”

 _Yes!_ The Dark Ones hissed, all in perfect sync, their words and thoughts overlapping as each one tried to be the loudest voice of approval. _Yes, Princess! We will make him beg and plead for mercy, spill his blood onto the dry ground in rivers of red. We will make him delirious with agony, incomprehensive with pain. We will break him!_ Nimue’s promises sent a shiver of dark magic down her spine, power crackling like lightning in her veins.

“Just tell me what you know, Lefou. Tell me so I may end you and move on with my quest.” Belle let the oxygen back into the room, watching with disregard as Lefou gasped in deep breaths, coughing harshly. His chains rattled as his body shook with the force of them, pulling out a piercing cry of pain when his broken wrist was tugged. When his fit of coughing finally stopped, there was only a deep silence as Lefou hung there limply.

When he did finally speak again, there was no sharp jerk of his chin, no blazing scorn in his eyes. Instead, Lefou looked utterly defeated, tired acceptance radiating from his haggard frame. “I am Lefou Cleric, trusted adviser to the royal throne of the kingdom of Avonlea. I live to serve and serve I shall, until my last breath. Do what you will with me, witch.”

His words only inflamed the anger smoldering in the pit of her stomach. He was right, of course. They _had_ trusted him. Her father had been so desperate for council that he had ignored all her many, _many_ attempts to dissuade him and blindly rushed forward into what he thought was his salvation. The long-buried rush of anger and confusion surfaced again, threating to destroy the mask of the monster so Belle pursed her lips, frowning at him until she once again felt centered. She might have felt sympathy for him, perhaps even a small bit of guilt for what she was about to do. But that was before. Before what he had allowed Gaston to do to her family… to Seth. “Your loyalty is admirable, Sir Cleric, but it’s going to cause you a great deal of pain. The man you are suffering do greatly for wouldn’t hesitate to use you like a shield, throw you to me if it meant that he could spare himself any hardship.”

Suddenly a slash cut against Lefou’s leg, his blood welling up thick before dripping silently onto the dungeon floor. Another slash, just half an inch higher and Lefou met her gaze with wide, terrified eyes. “I heard you earlier, Sir Cleric, truly I did. And more than that, I gave you the opportunity— _several_ opportunities—to change your mind, but alas…” Belle clicked her tongue and closed the slight distance between them, never once breaking eye contact. “I think I’ll go out for a bit, hm? Leave you here to see if maybe you might… reconsider.”

 

X~X

 

“Do you think that will break him?” Nimue asked once again, pacing in front of the fireplace. Her clawed hands were currently wrung together as she kept up her steady stream of questions. “You said it yourself, Princess—Lefou is loyal to a fault. We can torture him until the End of Days, but it won’t matter if he still pledges himself to Gaston.”

Belle groaned softly and massaged her aching temples, giving Nimue a withering stare. “I already told you, I don’t _know_. He’s loyal yes, but I brought _Gaston’s_ loyalty into question and I dare say that he’d never thought about it like that before.” Her head felt achingly empty without Nimue’s all-consuming presence, the other voices seeming even quieter now without her. “Regardless, I doubt that he’ll say anything right now. We need to give him time—”

“—which is exactly what we do not have!” Nimue snarled, and suddenly, she was right in front of Belle. Her unnatural features were highlighted in her rage, a dangerous sort of spark in her eyes. “Need I remind you, Princess, that _Gaston_ is hardly the only threat that we are facing. You have been the Dark One now for almost seven years and the dagger is _still not in your possession!”_

Belle shrank back, her eyes going unfocused as she struggled against the memory of Zoso’s blood coating her skin, the way the handle of dagger had slid from her fingers as _something_ had jerked her into the sky like a ragdoll. Despite everything, there had been a brief feeling of weightlessness, where everything had been light and good, her problems and fears left behind on the ground as she floated up, up, _up…_

_…_ and then the darkness had crashed down.

 

“Countless centuries this curse has been passed from host to host. Hundreds before you have wielded the power and yet… none of _them_ dropped the bloody dagger _!”_  Nimue was breathing heavy now, drowning out the sound of the fire in the hearth and the wind outside, her eyes unfathomable and empty. “You do not understand, Princess. You have yet to feel the chains on your soul, the demand for your obedience. That fool Zoso sold us like we were a toy, willingly putting himself in chains. But you… you know what it’s like to be controlled. To have no say. And I promise you—however bad you thought being controlled _then_ was, it is no match for someone having that dagger.”


	11. Behind the Beast

Granny’s tavern was bustling with activity when Belle walked in, the sound of off key singing and drunken cheers making her scrunch her nose in distaste. Moving carefully, she pulled off the hood of her cloak and shook out her curls, adding an extra layer of magic to her glamour spell. There was absolutely no reason that she could think of that would make her magic falter, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Good evening, Madam! It’s been a few weeks since we last saw you!” Ruby set the tray she had been carrying down on the nearest table, the empty cups still smudged with greasy fingerprints. With a broad smile, the barmaid clasped her hands warmly, lowering her voice to a quiet whisper. “I told Granny about what you said to Keith and how you stood up for us. She insisted that you eat free, whenever you want to.”

Belle returned her smile before gently tugging her hands from Ruby’s loose grip. “That is very kind of you but also entirely unnecessary. I know how difficult things can get around here and it would certainly not help the situation if I was just allowed to eat for free. Besides, I didn’t do much more than act as a witness.” _For which she owes us. Make her repay you by owing us a favor, it’d do us good to have a werewolf in our pocket… should we need it._ Nimue’s voice was strangely quiet, more like a light suggestion than an actual demand.

 

No, Belle thought softly. This one is on me. There was no magic involved, no use of power or fear tactics. These people don’t owe us anything.

 

Ruby looked like she wanted to argue but instead offered Belle an accepting smile. “Then you have my most sincere thanks. Keith is too much of a coward to come back here, and no one has ever stood up for us before. You might’ve not done more than threaten to challenge him, but that was enough. So, thank you, milady. A thousand thank you’s.” 

“It was truly no big feat. As you said, all I did was—”

“Madam Lacey!” Belle turned to see Baelfire making his way over as quickly as he could, the rapid tapping of a walking stick assuring her that Rumpelstiltskin was not far behind. The lively tavern was suddenly very quiet, and she didn’t need to look away from the boy to know that all eyes were on them. “Are you feeling well? Papa said that it might take a few days for you to start feeling a lot better and I told him that maybe you’d come back here but you were gone for a long time and I thought that maybe you’d gotten ill again but Papa said—”

“Bae!” Rumpelstiltskin cut his son off with a strong disapproving look before turning his full attention to her. The tavern had gotten even quieter and Belle could see the way the spinner’s ears had turned pink, the quick flash of his tongue peaking out to wet his lips. “Apologies, Milady. I took my eyes off him for no more than a minute and he hurried through the crowds.”

It took Belle a moment to respond, clearing her throat to break the silence. “There is certainly no need for apologies, especially not after the way you helped me.” Turning her attention back to Baelfire, she gave the embarrassed little boy the brightest smile she could manage. “I am feeling much better, thank you. I believe I might’ve come down with a nasty cold and I’m incredibly fortunate that you and your Papa found me when you did. Thank you.”

 

_Adorable,_ Nimue scoffed. _Torturing men by day, coddling children by night. What would the spinner say if he knew the truth? “Thank you so very much for saving me, even though I wasn’t actually in any danger! Please, allow me to shake your hand. Be careful of the blood from the weasel of a man I’m not yet finished torturing, wouldn’t want to stain your shirt!”_

Please, Belle thought desperately. Please stop.

 

He waved off her thanks with a dismissive gesture, his other hand gripping the walking staff for all it was worth. Belle could clearly see the whites of his knuckles and as conversation started to trickle up again, the spinner relaxed slowly. Rumpelstiltskin limped forward slowly and pulled out a chair at the table nearest her, looking up at Belle with a hesitant smile.

She quickly sat in the chair with a mumbled _thank you,_ looking around the crowded tavern as Baelfire slid into the seat next to her. A few people were still openly gawking at her, some outright glaring at the spinner. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t seem to notice the lingering stairs and instead turned his full attention to her, his brown eyes so full of excitement that Belle felt her heart crack a little.

 

He’s lonely, Belle thought sadly. What could he have possibly done to earn the distain of his entire village?

 

_Not our problem, nor our fault. If he is lonely then let him be lonely!_ Nimue’s voice rang louder than it ever had before, giving Belle the impression that the once Dark One was trying to yell.

“Madam Lacey, how have you been?” The spinner leaned just a bit closer to her, lowering his voice to no more than a whisper. “We were a bit… worried. Given the circumstances of our last meeting.” Try as she might, Belle couldn’t detect a hint of maliciousness in him. His expression was still faintly guarded, but in the very depths of his eyes she could _see_ him, an angry mixture of self-loathing and innocence.

“I’ve been well,” Belle answered at last, looking down and giving Baelfire a secretive smile. “No more fainting in snowy areas, I assure you. Not every little boy is as strong and brave as yours, after all.” Beside her, the little boy in question gave a sound akin to a squeak, looking at her with startled eyes. “I’m serious! Left all alone out there, I could have been robbed!”

“And wolves,” Baelfire added pointedly, grinning up at her. His cheeks had turned an adorable shade of red from her compliments, but his chest was puffed out a little in pride. “Papa and I heard some howling just a fortnight ago! We think it was cause of how dark it gets at night and how sometimes animals get lost so the wolves eat them. Then Papa went over to tell missus Tillerman that she ought to put the sheep in the barn for the night. Right, Papa?”

“Aye, Bae—”

“But because there were so many, we had to help! My job was to chase them until they got inside the fence to Papa and then close the gate as quickly as I could. Me and ‘Raine had a race to see who could run the fastest!” When Baelfire finally stopped to take a breath, he looked between Belle and Rumpelstiltskin expectantly. “Papa, tell her how fast I ran!”

Rumpelstiltskin cleared his throat and shook his head fondly, the very end of his hair brushing against the top of his cloak. “Twelve seconds.”

“Twelve seconds to get from the fence all the way to Papa!” Baelfire practically wriggled with pride and Belle could hear the way his feet kept tapping under the table. One single curl had come untucked from behind his ear and for one ridiculous moment, Belle found herself itching to brush it back. The darkness inside of her sneered at the thought, and she could feel Nimue’s rage keenly.

“Most impressive,” Belle murmured softly, pretending not to see the way Baelfire deflated slightly. It was foolish, letting her long-buried emotions surface now. But there was something there, something about these two that made her _want_ to feel again. Before she could ponder any further, a new voice echoed in her head, agonizingly desperate. “I really must be going now. Very nice to see the both of you again.” 

Rumpelstiltskin stood as quickly as he could, limping over to pull her seat back for her. His gesture made her heart flutter and Belle bit her cheek sharply to block out the unwanted feeling. There was no room for something like this in the life she led, and besides, if the spinner ever found out who she truly was— _what_ she truly was, he would be disgusted. Horrified.  There would be no more shy smiles or gentlemanly gestures, no more polite conversation or genuine concern for her wellbeing. It was best to cut ties now, before he and his little boy wormed their way any further into her dark heart.

As calmly as she could, Belle stood up, smoothing a hand down the front of her dress to brush away invisible wrinkles. “Thank you both for a most pleasant evening and delightful conversation. Truly, thank you—” without giving herself time to think about it, she ruffled a hand through Balefire’s messy hair, making the little boy squeak before flashing her a brilliant smile. If this was to truly be the last time she saw them, then it would damn well be their smiles she remembered. “And you, young man. Now I know where to find a running champion, should I ever need one.”   

The cry sounded in her head again, this time accompanied by Nimue. _Lefou is calling. I have a feeling that the torture we’ve inflicted has been enough to break him. Leave the spinner and his son, return to the castle and finish this, Princess._

With one last parting smile, Belle turned away and left the tavern, feeling what was left of her heart crack just a little in her chest.


	12. The Princess in Her Castle

The sight that greeted Belle the moment she stepped through the doorway of her dungeon was enough to drive every warm thought out of her head. Lefou was still strung up by his chains, but there was now an ample puddle of blood on the ground under him, deep shadows etched into his face. For a few long minuets, Belle merely stood and watched him writhe in pain, the soundless words that tried to spill out from his bloody lips filling her with raw excitement. If she hadn’t stripped the room of most of its oxygen, he would’ve been screaming.

 

_A broken soldier. He’s more than ready to talk now, if you’re quite finished. After all, he’s not the one we’re after._ Nimue was right, of course. The way his mouth kept moving as his eyes pleaded with her were a sign enough, and that wasn’t even considering the sheer _desperation_ he had radiating from him.

 

Seth’s face flashed behind her eyes and Belle locked her jaw, refusing to show any emotion other than malicious glee. It wouldn’t be enough— _nothing_ would be enough, but it was a start. This is for you, she thought. For what they did… for what I let them do. This is for you.

The steps she took towards him were measured, slow and sedate. Lefou opened his mouth and Belle could see the blood staining his teeth, dripping down his chin. “I believe you called?” Lefou nodded, still trying to speak and Belle held up a hand. “Are you ready to tell me what I want to know now?” Another nod.

Belle let the air back into the room with a whisper of magic, gripping his blood slick chin between her fingers. “Now,” she snarled, “tell me _everything_.”

 

X~X

_The sound of pounding footsteps outside of the library made Belle pause, cocking her head a little to the side. They were still coming—growing louder and louder—so she slipped her ribbon from her hair and placed it into the book she had been reading, giving Her Handsome Hero one last longing look before closing its cover firmly._

_Just as she finished, Seth burst through the doors and launched himself into her arms, startling an ‘oomf’ from her._

_“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Seth laughed against her, giving Belle a quick squeeze around the middle before letting her go completely. His normally straight hair was a mess of waves—like he’d been constantly running his fingers through it—and she grabbed his shoulders to press a quick kiss to his forehead. When she pulled away, his dark brown eyes were wide and wet with tears, but he was beaming at her so nothing could have been too terribly wrong._

_Reassured, Belle ran her hands briskly up and down his arms, giggling when he squirmed in mock protest. “What is it, hm? There must be a reason for you stomping down the corridor like a herd of wild animals, racing into my library like a madman! I don’t quite believe I’ve ever seen you run that fast before.” As she hoped, her exaggerated protest made Seth erupt into a fit of laughter, shaking her along with him as her laughed. At thirteen, he barely looked up to meet her eyes and Belle mourned the fact that in all likeliness, he would be eye to eye with her before his next birthday._

_“I was not that loud, and I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but I figured since you’re the princess the rules don’t really apply to you and—”_

_“Seth,” Belle interjected, placing her hands on his shoulder and leaning back so that she could look him right in the eyes. “What is it?”_

_He squirmed a little under her intense gaze but finally broke when she smiled at him. “It’s Sir Gaston! He’s agreed to train me to be a knight! I can stay at the castle forever and protect you, just like I’ve always wanted!”_

X~X

It was sickening to see what Avonlea had become. Theirs had never been a bustling kingdom, and certainly not known for anything too important, but the castle had been more of a representation than a fortress. Her father may have not have been the best, but he’d made a damn fine king and for a moment, Belle was glad that he wasn’t around to see what had become of his beloved castle.

The grand dining hall was covered in layers and layers of dust, most of the chairs flipped over like they had been evacuated in a hurry. The once pristine floor now had deep slashes in it, the walls stained with mold and blood. Quickly scanning her eyes around the room, she found a portrait of their family, still hanging above the fireplace. Collette had held Belle tightly against her side, Maurice wrapping his arms around the both from behind. The portrait was smudged and yellowed, their faces hardly recognizable anymore. Next to that, there had been a portrait of Gaston, his helmet held securely in his hand as he gazed off into the distance. That, of course, was now gone. She could see it now, the desperate abandonment of the castle, Gaston breaking away from the troops as he ran back inside, balancing precariously on a chair and reaching to pluck it from the wall. 

Belle huffed out a laugh, swallowing around the painful lump in her throat. “Figures.”

Walking through the castle was like second nature, her feet all too familiar with the path she was taking.  At every little turn, there was _something_ —some long-forgotten memory that shoved its way to the surface. Belle didn’t allow herself anymore stops to reminisce, ignored the ghosts that danced in golden gowns and held hands with a heartless murderer. She absolutely refused to even _look_ at the door leading to the library, holding her head still and walking a fast clip towards the rear doors of the castle.

 

_“Please slow down, m’lady Belle! I’m not as big as you yet!”_

_“Not yet, but soon. Before too long, you will look down on me Seth.”_

_“No! Not down on you, m’lady. Never down on you. I shall kneel at your feet.”_

Seth’s voice echoed in her head, the innocence of his eyes and the way his laugh had warmed her. She could see him, running around the very hall she was walking through, arms out wide as he spun in circles, looking over his shoulder to smile at her—

“Enough!” Belle spat out, holding a shaking hand to her chest as she forced the unwanted memories away. Her eyes stung with tears and she let her claws dig in to the palm of her hand until the burning sensation passed. Now was not the time to let her emotions overwhelm her, not if she was to do what needed to be done. “And just what the hell was _that_?”

 

_A reminder,_ Nimue answered without pause. _A reminder of what you had and what he took from you--long before you ever laid a hand on that dagger. Your father dug his own grave but your friend, the half blood? He didn’t deserve what happened to him. What they did to him._

“I know that!” Belle hissed, running her palms down her dress before standing up completely. Guilt and anger churned in her stomach once again, the memories rushing to the forefront, eager to choke her. If only she had stayed… If only she had taken him with her… The list of possibilities was as endless as it was pointless, she hadn’t taken him with her. She’d left him, and now he was gone. “I know. Seth deserved better. That’s why I am here, why I’ve done all of this! Gaston will suffer, I don’t need you to remind me of my quest and _certainly_ not like that.”

 

X~X

 

_“You’re not even watching! We’ve one of the finest knights in the land here for you to observe and you’ve yet to let your gaze drift away from that infuriating book!”_

_Belle narrowly resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her fathers’ outburst, instead carefully tucking a ribbon in between the pages and glancing at the field. It was true, she supposed. Gaston was putting on quite the show, the heavy clanging of swords no longer enough to capture her attention. She watched him prance around the field, easily dodging his opponent’s clumsy swings before counter attacking viciously. “His challenger is a novice?”_

_Maurice waved a dismissive hand, gesturing down to where the two men were still amid their duel. “Everyone is a novice at first, my girl. To be a great knight takes a lot of sacrifice and resilience, you must treat the sword as an extension of yourself. Respect your enemies but show them no mercy. Training with a man as reputable as Sir Gaston? I can think of no greater honor.”_

The inside of the castle had been in ruins—flipped tables and broken chairs, peeling paint and rotting wood. The outside, however, was _much_ worse.

As far as Belle could see, the grass was dead and brown, the whole area reeking of death. Even years after the attack, the land itself had never recovered, large chunks of earth still missing from ogres’ fists and feet. It should have made her more upset, she thought. Avonlea had been her home and even with all the bad memories now attached, at one point she’d been happy here. Instead, she just felt a deep sense of emptiness, the once beloved landscape no more than ash and rubble, much like her soul.

The only thing that seemed to be relatively unscathed was the east tower, where all the servants had stayed. It stood tall and proud like the castle itself once had, the smooth gray stone a stark contrast against the blackened and burned grounds. Her lips almost twitched up into a smile, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Rumpelstiltskin’s saying something about a beacon of hope. There was land just past the east tower that also seemed to have fared a bit better, but that hardly mattered now. Every molecule of Belle’s being snapped into high alert as a figured stepped from the shadows, a sword held loosely in his grasp.

Willing the flood of magic into submission, Belle looked up and met Gaston’s cold gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave a comment or find me on Tumblr at https://katrina-winslow.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> Rating is subject to change. Please comment and tell me what you think!


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